Escape from New Jersey
by firefox b
Summary: In the year 2019, the President's immigration policies have turned New Jersey into a massive containment center and prison camp. Ironically, the President's jet is brought down by terrorists over the Garden State, and an anthropomorphic being is offered his freedom to bring the Orange Man back home...


Fox Plissken regarded the man who had summoned him suspiciously. The anthropomorphic being was glad to be away from the prison camp where he had been confined at hard labor, but wondered if he had just gone from bad to worse in this situation.

Hauck cast a questioning eye at his prisoner. "Fox Plissken," he summarized from an official record that he held. "War hero...decorated numerous times. Sent to prison for slaying half the members of the Westboro Baptist Church."  
Plissken shrugged. "Seemed a good experiment at the time to see if the half not killed would picket the funerals of those who were," he explained.

Hauck frowned. "It's not that I disagree with you, Plissken, but I'm not here to judge. I'm here to offer you a deal."

""Call me Fox. I'm listening," said the anthropomorph, his expression unchanging.

"Fox, Air Force One has been hijacked by terrorists and forced down in New Jersey, which as you know has been a massive national prison camp since 2019. The President was on board, but managed to eject in an escape pod prior to the jet going down. We're able to pick up his life signals on a bracelet locator monitor that he was wearing."

"What's that got to do with me?," asked the prisoner.

You'll be offered a pardon for all your crimes if you retrieve the President," explained Hauck. It's your freedom, Plissken."

"Alright, I'm in," said the fox.

"Some vaccinations, then," said Hauck, gesturing to a nearby technician.

"I don't like needles," glowered Fox. The technician approached, and held a syringe to either side of his neck. The fox flinched a bit as the injections were made.

"Tell him," the technician demanded of Hauck.

"Tell me what?," the fox angrily said in response. "What did you just do to me?!"

"An encapsulated micro explosive has just been placed in your neck," explained Hauck. "Their coating will slowly dissolve over time, and if the explosives are not neutralized in 24 hours, your carotid arteries will be blown open."

Fox picked the technician up by his neck and held him in a stranglehold dangling above the floor. "Take it out!," he demanded, enraged.

Instantly there was the sound of multiple rifles being cocked and trained on the fox. "I call the shots here, Plissken," said Hauck evenly. "It's just leverage to keep you on the job and bring you back here with the President," Hauck warned. "Get back here in 24 hours, and you've got nothing to worry about. If you don't, your death is certain."

Glowering but at a distinct tactical disadvantage, Fox lowered the gasping technician to the floor and the gun muzzles were lowered. Under heavy guard, he was equipped with weapons and guided to the cockpit of a single passenger glider, which was towed by air to the New Jersey border and released at a high altitude. The fox silently piloted the glider by instruments to the location where the President's location monitor revealed him to be situated.

"Plissken!-What's going on?," the voice of Hauck demanded to know over the glider's radio.

"I'm playing with myself!," snarled Fox sarcastically. "I'm going in," he declared, steering the glider to the roof of the Willowbrook Mall in Wayne, New Jersey. The glider screeched to a halt in darkness mere inches from the edge of a roof on a mall anchor store. Plissken shot a lock from the roof door and descended darkened staircases from there down to the mall's ground floor. Strange humanoid creatures scurried around him but kept a respectful distance once they spied the automatic weapon that Fox held in one paw. Ever mindful of the mutant degenerates nearby, Plissken moved closer to the president' s location as revealed by his scanner.

Moving stealthily, Fox came to the center of the mall, an open area which once had held seasonal displays related to Xmas and other approaching seasons. The sound of isolated gunshots caused Fox to freeze behind a pillar, his every instinct focused as he peered cautiously around it. There in a throne-like seat which once held Santa Claus impersonators reposed Donald Trump, clumsily handling a large firearm like a boy with a new toy. His small hands trained the weapon on a chained journalist who hung as a living target on a store front perhaps thirty feet away. The weapon thundered and sent a high-powered slug Into the wall beside the cringing reporter. The minions gathered around Trump roared their appreciation of the spectacle, and the Orange-haired man grinned at their endorsement. It was as if a king was holding court for his adoring subjects.

Plissken moved cautiously closer to Trump, his weapon at the ready in case any of the mob made a hostile move towards him. "Mr. 'President?'" queried Fox. "I'm here to get you out."

The Orange Man looked at Plissken disdainfully. "I'm not interested in leaving," he said firmly. "Look at these guys!," he said gesturing towards the mob. "They love me here. I'm kind of like their king, and each and every one of them would do anything that I asked them to. There's no special prosecutor here. I've found my niche!"

Plissken looked askance at Trump. "I heard that 'The Duke of New York' was in charge of this prison colony."

Trump made a rude noise in response. "Hell, I AM New York!," he loudly declared. "I've been running New York for years! I ate 'The Duke' for breakfast! What a loser...sad!"

Fox Plissken cocked his head slightly. "Well, Mr. 'President,' from where I stand, you're exactly where you want and need to be," he said in a dry tone. "Water finds it's own level, I guess. Now if you don't need me, I guess I'll be going."

The Orange Man waved his would-be liberator away, and went back to pegging shots at the chained journalist. "I hate these guys!," he muttered to the cheers of his adoring crowd. To the departing Plissken, he said, "Let me know if you ever need a job here."

"I work alone," intoned Fox Plissken, lighting a cigarette as he walked away, the smoke encircling him in the gathering darkness...


End file.
